


The Girl is an Alpha

by Hysterical_Mirth



Series: How to Be an Alpha [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha MC, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breaking Gender Roles, Gender Stereotyping, Graphic Description of Anatomy, Heat Sex, Knotting, Mild Gender Dysphoria, Multi, Named MC, Omegaverse, Puberty, Rutting, Secondary Gender Presentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hysterical_Mirth/pseuds/Hysterical_Mirth
Summary: With two Alpha mothers, Miran was thought to present as an Alpha from birth.As she grew older, it became clear she might be more like her Beta Grandfather.The truth is, they had been right all along.--Exploring the life of Miran Chu, the female Alpha of the RFA, before she became their party coordinator via unconventional means.





	1. Un/Expected

“Miran!”

 

Frantic knocking rapped at the top of her door, her mother’s voice strident behind it. 

 

Everything had changed as if overnight. She hadn’t noticed the small, subtleties of her body’s presentation. 

 

She pressed her back against her door, shoving down the snarls that grappled in her chest. This was her space, her books, her bed, her clothes, her things. She snapped the lock closed on her door knob and shoved her hand against her stomach. 

 

“M-Mom…” Her voice was weak, the edges of her speech cracked. The fever in her was terrible and angry. This was… It wasn’t her. How could she be betrayed like this? 

 

She was supposed to be a Beta. 

 

Everyone told her so. Her grandfather’s blood, the grandfather who had passed before she even knew him, was strong in her. Her sire mother often said she even looked more of him than either of her mothers. 

 

Her body was small and soft, not tall and lean. How was she to have known? 

 

The scent of an Alpha crept under her door frame, and a growl loosed from her mouth, teeth bared. It rumbled in her, unceasingly, until the scent withdrew, feet padding down the hall with it. 

 

No, this wasn’t her. She was not this rage filled person, she wasn’t… The space was not her  _ territory _ . It was her bedroom, at home, where she studied and slept, and even had friends over. 

 

Miran whined, a sob caught at the end, and crawled forward. Between her legs she hurt and throbbed, but she didn’t dare touch. She didn’t want to see the proof, to feel it even more than she already could. 

 

A sweet scent drifted through her red haze, curling and clean, silk in perfume form. Miran reached for it, hands dragging back a colorful scarf. 

 

This was… She couldn’t recall the name of the girl, a friend of a friend who had needed help with math. She had stayed for dinner a few days ago and left her scarf behind. An Omega. 

 

Miran had forgotten to return the scarf, entrenched deeply with the girl’s scent. It wasn’t cloying, like a synthetic floral scent, it was just clean. A fresh breeze. 

 

Her mouth watered. Without thought, she pressed the scarf to her face as she listed to the side. Absently, she wrapped the scarf around her neck, piling the long length atop itself. The fluff of the yarn tickled her nose. 

 

Calm drained the fever from her, pooling it to the back of her mind where she didn’t need to worry about it. All she needed was this scent, the fresh smell of an Omega her age. 

 

Miran blinked slowly, her body languid in the wake of its soothed fever. Right now… Right now, sleep sounded wonderful.

 

* * *

 

Soft touches brushed over her cheek, smoothing hair from her forehead. Miran’s neck, wrists, and thighs ached, and she felt crust around her mouth. Ah, she had drooled. 

 

Her eyes fluttered open and she yawned widely, not quite ready to wake up. 

 

Arms slipped under her and shifted, pulling her upward. A pair of hands tucked her head forward as she swayed in the cradle of arms. Was she a child again? That would be nice. 

 

Carefully, she was deposited into a nest of softness and warmth, blanketed by the same. Her own scent filled her nose, mixed with the clean, Omegan scent. Miran reached out, padding, feeling for the Omega that should be with her. 

 

Where- Oh, there. Lazily, she dragged the unresisting Omega to her chest and curled around them, tight and protective. If her Omega wasn’t going to wake her, then she was going back to sleep. She didn’t want to be awake if her fever returned. 

 

* * *

 

“She was sleeping?” 

 

“In the middle of her rut?”

 

“It  _ is _ her first, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, father, but she’s always been-”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it, we all thought she was going to be a Beta.” 

 

“She had an Omega’s scarf.” 

 

“What? Where- Was it that girl?”

 

“I think so, from a few nights before. I thought she had returned the scarf.” 

 

“Was she all right?” 

 

“Yes, she was just… Sleeping. I put her to bed, she fell asleep against her bookshelf.” 

 

“Hah… Well, she always has been easygoing.” 

 

“This is a little extreme, though. I thought she was going to wake up, but she grabbed a pillow and  _ rolled over! _ ” 

 

“Haha!” 

 

“Father! It’s not funny!”


	2. Childhood Dysphoria

She shoved her shirt on, struggling it down over her chest, and smoothed her skirt over her legs. The flush of embarrassment and humiliation was still hot on her face.

 

Miran pushed the curtain aside and paused. The table’s sanitary paper was mussed, torn where she had scrambled off when the doctor let her up. To the side of it was a chair, where she had left her bag when she was told to change into the medical gown.

 

Firmly, she plucked her bag up, fished out her cell phone, and sat down in the chair.

 

[ **Miran:** I’m almost done.

 

 **Mom:** Do you want me to pick you up?]

 

She nearly typed “no.” The car wasn’t hers, and, even carefully maintained, her mother’s Alpha scent had soaked into the seating from years of regular use.

 

But she wanted her mom. New Alpha instincts aside, as a child to her mother, she wanted her there. Mom could make everything better.

 

A knock sounded from the door, and Miran frantically wiped at her eyes as she put her phone away.

 

[ **Miran:** Yes.]

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

Her voice warbled, and her mother passed over a packet of tissues.

 

“What don’t you like?” Her mother asked carefully.

 

“Everything. The car stinks, the house stinks, places stink. I feel like people are looking at me wrong, all the time. I’m so _angry_. Over nothing! I don’t-” Miran hiccuped and swiped at her nose with a tissue. “I don’t want to be angry,” she whimpered. Her newly developed scent glands ached, dispersing her distress through the small car.

 

Her mother rumbled quietly, a soothing, grumbly purr. Miran whined and reached for her hand. It was freely given, and Miran clutched it tightly, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek. Her mother stroked her knuckles with her thumb, and Miran focused on the tiny movement as she trembled.

 

Eventually, the car slowed to a stop and the engine cut. Across the seats, her mother reached for her, and Miran came, pressing her face against her mother’s chest. She desperately ignored the instincts vying in her, demanding she get away, it’s not _safe there’s another Alpha,_ **_stop_ ** _-_

 

“It isn’t forever,” her mother murmured. “This anger, those feelings, the scents… They will cease to matter so much. It is only because they’re new that it overwhelms you.” Gentle fingers stroked her hair, smoothing the waves of the locks. “Remember when you scraped your knee when you were little? It hurt so much, it bled and we cleaned it while you cried and cried.”

 

“I didn’t cry that much…”

 

“You cried and said it hurt so badly, the worst you had ever felt. Not five minutes later, you would be running off again.” Her mother’s head turned, stirring her hair, and she felt the gentle pressure of a kiss placed on her crown.

 

“This will be just like that,” she promised. “Before you can realize, all the things you feel now will fade.”

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t… Wrong, exactly.

 

Miran did get used to it. The scents that overwhelmed her became commonplace. She carried a neutral scent blocker to spray if anything became too pungent and washed every night to erase any smell of her own secondary gender.

 

The scents ended up being the least of her worries, and the easiest to deal with.

 

Instincts were second to that, and her mothers were always there to guide her. As the newness of her presentation faded, so did the sharp insistence that her Alpha mothers were intruders, a danger to her well being. They were comforting sanctuaries, their warmth and musk enveloping her in security. Theirs were the first scents she had come to tolerate.

 

In the end, it was her body that betrayed her the most.

 

Scent glands, previously inert and unassuming, throbbed at her neck and wrists. Where she could hide the musk they gave, labeling her an Alpha, she could not hide her emotions when they rolled through her.

 

That wasn’t terrible- she had always been free with her feelings.

 

It was the glands in her inner thighs that were the worst.

 

Her presentation had dragged with it a different awareness of people around her that she had never considered before. An awareness that made the glands between her thighs heat and sing.

 

A growing part of her anatomy did not help in the slightest.

 

Miran had never been ashamed of her genitals before. She had been taught that though her temperament was that of Beta, her strong Alpha background had likely given her the anatomy she had, both penis and vagina like any other female Alpha.

 

It wasn’t exceedingly rare in Betas, just uncommon. It had been the only sign that she might be anything other than a Beta. When she passed into puberty, it had grown with the rest of her, but never enough that she paid it any attention.

 

As an Alpha, she could no longer dismiss it.

 

It swelled easily now, aching feverishly until she could press it down or inflict a cold shower on herself. She hated how it seemed to have its own mind, whether she let it be or something as slight as a breeze stirred her skirts.

 

The months after her first rut were the worst. The base of it developed a slight bulge that had never been there before, what she knew was her knot.

 

The first time she had caught a whiff of an Omega near heat it had sweet enough that her teeth twinged painfully and her mouth flinched open. She had inhaled the scent fully, filling her throat with it before she regained her senses.

 

Between her legs, her growing cock pulsed in time with her thigh’s glands, begging for attention from the unknown Omega.

 

Dazed, Miran followed after the scent before her rational mind could overpower her primal instinct. The Omega looked over her shoulder, small and soft, her eyes shy and dewy. Miran was barely any taller than her, her own body rounder and softer. If she didn’t have what she did between her legs, if her scent was not hampered by the neutral soap she washed with, she might be mistaken for an Omega too.

 

“Miss?”

 

The Omega stopped, her slim wrist trapped in Miran’s hand. She hadn’t realized she had gotten so close, close enough to touch, to wrap her hand around the Omega’s wrist. Her grip was inappropriately near the Omega’s gland.

 

“Oh!” Miran gasped and released the Omega as she reeled back violently. “I-I’m sorry! You should, um, you should get home. I-I need to… I’m sorry!”

 

Miran fled, sprinting for home, where there were no Omegas, no strange smells, and privacy to deal with her unruly anatomy.


End file.
